


Cuddles Required

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Gentle Things [4]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blow Jobs, Cuddles, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hugs, John Loves Sherlock, John always knows, M/M, Needy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, Sherlock Needs A Hug, Sherlock's nanny dies, Touch starved Sherlock
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-14
Updated: 2015-07-14
Packaged: 2018-04-09 08:42:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4341791
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the Live Journal prompt: Sherlock never asks for affection.</p><p>Sherlock, is severely touch-starved and obviously desperately in love with John which makes him crave affection more. Sherlock though, never ever asks. John being John however always knows.</p><p> </p><p>Or</p><p> </p><p>Five times John gave Sherlock cuddles and one time he gave him cuddles and just a bit more.</p><p> </p><p>Beta read by <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/users/Sherlock1110/pseuds/Sherlock1110">Sherlock1110.</a></p>
            </blockquote>





	Cuddles Required

1\. He shouldn't feel this way. He should be above something so patently normal, but he's not because John got hurt and that makes Sherlock hurt. It wasn't a case this time. It was a simple car accident and, really, John is just fine. He only received a few scrapes.

The doctor is reading the paper and Sherlock needs to be closer to him. He needs to observe John's every breath. He needs to touch him, to reassure himself that his blogger is truly okay, but he can't bring himself to do that. Instead, he slips off his chair and onto the floor and crawls over to grab the front page that John has discarded. He leans against the front of John's chair and pretends to read. Sherlock could reach out or simply lean over just a bit and he would be touching John, but he doesn't do it because he's not that needy. He's not.

John smiles to himself. Sherlock is so close and he's pretending to read and it's charming. John drops the paper to the table and leans forward. He runs the fingers of his left hand through Sherlock's hair and the detective practically purrs, but something's not quite right because Sherlock is still sitting stiffly and he hasn't acknowledged John yet. The doctor knows what is going on in that great mind, he's learned how to read his lover despite Sherlock's efforts, and he's not going to allow it to continue. "Sherlock, I'm fine. Look at me," John says and Sherlock does.

The detective looks so small and lost and now John's heart hurts for the man. It's obvious what Sherlock wants, what he needs, and John's going to give it to him, but he will never embarrass his lover so he says, "Get up here, you. I need to hold you for a bit."

Sherlock manages a snort of derision, but he climbs into John's lap gratefully. John's arms wrap around him and he leans his head against his blogger's chest. He inhales deeply and all he can smell is the wonderful scent of John. His doctor is safe and he is safe because John is holding him.

\--------

2\. Their last case ended with a madcap chase through London's streets and alleys. That's not unusual in and of itself. What is unusual is that, for the second time, things ended in a poolside standoff. This one wasn't nearly as bad as the standoff with Moriarty had been. It had taken mere moments for John to disarm the killer and Lestrade had been right there to take him into custody.

Sherlock is fine. There is no reason for him not to be.

In the early hours of the morning, the detective wakes. His heart is racing and it is difficult to breathe. Try as he might, he can't shake the lingering images from his dream: John strapped into an ungodly amount of C4, John with red dots lighting his chest, and, worst of all, John caught at the centre of a blast that hadn't actually occurred in the waking world.

"Sherlock, it's okay. You were just having a nightmare." John's voice is full of concern. He has been startled to wakefulness by Sherlock's scream. In the pale light streaming in from the street, John can see tears on the detective's face.

Sherlock is grateful for the sound of John's voice, it anchors him to the here and now, but it's not enough. There is far too much distance between him and John. He wants to roll over and bury his face in John's neck. He wants to feel strong arms wrap around him and hold him tight. It's absurd and Sherlock feels a wave of shame wash over him at his pathetic need. John will be just as alive and safe if he simply lays there. He doesn't need to touch John.

The waves of terror are still radiating off of Sherlock so John scoots across the bed and pulls him close. They're spooning now and John's the big spoon. He can feel his lover slowly calming and that's good.

They stay that way the rest of the night.

\--------

3\. The morgue is silent. Sherlock is standing next to the body of a young woman, early twenties. He has tried his hardest, but she has still ended up dead.

Molly is looking at Sherlock. She knows that he is far more human than he likes to admit, and all she can feel is pity for him. He looks so very sad to her.

Lestrade walks up to stand beside the detective. He carefully avoids looking Sherlock in the eye because he knows that his friend wouldn't want him to see the pain that he is trying so hard to disguise. "It's not your fault, mate."

Sherlock doesn't answer. He just stiffens and stands impossibly taller. It is his fault. If he had just been a little bit faster, just a little bit better, the woman would still be alive. Sherlock wants to scream and rage and let tears of frustration flow, but he doesn't do those things. He wants to turn to John and take his hand because he needs comfort that only John can give. The detective scowls at Lestrade instead. That feels safer. He's not a slave to sentiment.

John steps up behind Sherlock and wraps his arms around him. "Greg's right, you know."

Their small audience of two don't comment. Both Greg and Molly are glad that Sherlock has John. They can see the tension and self loathing being leeched from their friend by John's simple gesture. Tonight won't be a danger night.

\--------

4\. Mrs. Hudson is puttering around the flat, tutting at the mess that Sherlock has made of the kitchen.

Mycroft walks in unannounced and Sherlock scowls. He doesn't want to deal with his brother today. "What do you want, Mycroft?"

His brother doesn't answer his question, instead he asks one of his own. "Is John about?"

John walks into the living room and answers, "Hiya, Mycroft. What crisis brings you around?"

Mycroft uncharacteristically let's out a small sigh as he turns to Sherlock. "Please sit down, baby brother. I have news."

Swallowing hard, Sherlock complies. Something's wrong. He can tell from his brother's demeanour. He doesn't want to hear Mycroft's news, but he has to. It's best to get whatever this is over with. "Just say it."

Glancing at John, Mycroft speaks, "It's Mrs. Hollingsworth. I'm sorry, Sherlock, but she passed last night."

Sherlock blinks and doesn't speak. He can't. His throat has constricted painfully and he tries to swallow. He may actually be about to pass out.

John doesn't know who Mrs. Hollingsworth is. He doesn't know that she was Sherlock's nanny and one of the few people in the world that the detective has ever cared about. What he does know is that Sherlock is hurting and that's unacceptable. John sits down on the arm of the detective's chair and slides an arm around Sherlock's shoulders.

Turning his head into John's side, Sherlock let's out a small cry of anguish. He doesn't want Mycroft to see his weakness, it's absolutely hateful, but he can't stop himself from showing it. He hurts too badly. The only thing keeping him from breaking down completely is the warmth of John's arm across his shoulders.

Mycroft meets John's eyes and nods. He knows that his brother is in good hands so he slips out quietly.

Mrs. Hudson wipes a tear from her eye. She hates seeing one of her boys in pain. "Let me know if you need anything, dears. I'll be just downstairs." She thinks, "Thank goodness for Doctor Watson." The door closes softly behind her as she leaves.

\--------

5\. They're at a crime scene and Sherlock has already solved the case. It took less than thirty minutes. He's glowing and takes up the entire room with his presence.

John says, "Amazing. Bloody brilliant." He steps up to Sherlock and reaches up to cup his face lovingly in his left hand.

Behind them, Sally rolls her eyes and looks away. Suddenly the wall behind her is very interesting. Anderson mock wretches and walks from the room. A large smile creeps onto DI Lestrade's face.

Sherlock is embarrassed, but he loves hearing John's praise. He blushes and dips his head. He wants John to stop touching him. There are too many eyes at the crime scene, and he feels like they are all watching him. He doesn't want John to stop.

John manages to forget, for a moment, about Greg's team. The only thing he can think about is the amazing man in front of him. He strokes his thumb along the ridge of Sherlock's cheekbone and trails it down to his jawline. He wonders why Sherlock needs his praise so much as well as his touch. He doesn't know, but he gives it to the detective nonetheless. John takes Sherlock's hand and lifts it to his lips, pressing a long kiss to his knuckles. "I'll never get tired of watching you work."

Sherlock smiles as a surge of happiness rises up within him. He doesn't deserve John. He knows that's the truth. He should drive his blogger away, but if he does that, he'll die.

"We'll come by and give our statements tomorrow," John says. He takes Sherlock by the waist and guides him from the building. In the cab, John holds his lover close and Sherlock enjoys the moment.

\--------

5+. John has already gone to bed and Sherlock knows that he should leave him alone. The doctor has had a rough day at the clinic and is exhausted. Sherlock decides that he won't wake him. That doesn't have to stop him from looking, though.

Sherlock creeps silently to their bedroom and sits on the edge of their bed. John looks peaceful. Sherlock reaches out a hand toward his blogger, but stops just short of touching him.

John's eyes crack open and he smiles. "Come to bed, Sherlock."

"Not sleepy," Sherlock rumbles.

"Come. To. Bed." John grasps Sherlock's hand and pulls him down beside him. The detective looks at him with wide eyes, pupils blown, and John smiles. "It's okay to want this."

Sherlock's not so sure about that, but he does want it. When John pulls him in for a long slow kiss, the detective moans. He can feel his body responding to the doctor's touches and let's himself go. He doesn't surrender to these sensations for his own sake, of course not. He does it for John. His blogger needs this type of release. Sherlock is completely above such things. At least that's what he tries to tell himself.

John's lips move down to suck gently at Sherlock's neck and it feels incredible. The detective tries not to make a sound but a whimper escapes him anyway. He sounds so needy, but his brain is going offline and he doesn't care. John likes the sounds that he is making so he makes more.

When John strokes down his torso and glides his hand beneath Sherlock's pyjamas bottoms and pants, the detective gasps. His blogger kisses him once again and swallows the sighs that the detective is making. The feel of calloused surgeon's fingers against his cock light a fire in his groin.

John pulls him out and strokes him once, twice, three times. He struggles to keep his hips still and tries unsuccessfully to stifle a moan.

"I want to suck you," John says.

Sherlock responds, "God, yes." The moment that John's mouth takes him in almost makes him stop breathing. "John...," he cries brokenly. It doesn't take long for him to reach his climax and he reaches to pull his lover off of him, but John smiles and swallows his release. He wants to reciprocate but he can't. He's shaking and he can't speak and he's crying and its all to much.

John's holding him and whispering that it's all okay. "I've got you, Sherlock."

"But I should...," Sherlock begins and John interrupts him.

"It's okay. I'm fine. Don't worry about me. Just let me hold you for a bit." He kisses Sherlock on the forehead. "This is all I need right now, promise."

Sherlock wouldn't believe anyone else if they said those words to him in this situation, but this is John and his blogger never lies. John always knows what he needs and Sherlock is eternally grateful because he can never ask for what he will never admit that he needs. "I love you, John," he manages to say, but absolutely not because he needs to say it. John needs to hear it, that's all.

John answers, "I love you too."

He doesn't need to hear those words either and Sherlock definitely doesn't smile. He doesn't burrow more deeply into John's embrace even if the doctor thinks so. Sherlock absolutely doesn't hum his appreciation at the fingers stroking his hair. He does, however, drift off into blissful sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> If you want to podfic or translate this or create a drawing based on it, go for it. Just please let me know and link back to my fic.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [抱抱我](https://archiveofourown.org/works/4345910) by [LoveBBCSH](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveBBCSH/pseuds/LoveBBCSH)




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